


After the End (DAI, FemTrevelyan Inquisitor)

by Guardian_Wolf



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff everywhere, Possible Slow burn, The first chapter's not so fluffy but oh well, irregular updates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 22:04:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6026908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_Wolf/pseuds/Guardian_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few months have passed since the Inquisition sealed the Breach, and Inquisitor Keirra Trevelyan defeated the Tevinter Magister, Corypheus. Since the victory in the Frostback Mountains, the Inquisitor has been anywhere and everywhere sealing Rifts that have remained open in the wake of the Breach. Because of this, her and Commander Cullen haven't had the chance to complete the overdue visit to meet his relatives-- for the first time for her. However, when the latest of the Inquisitor's trips takes a turn for the worst and she is announced missing, visiting the Rutherfords is no longer so high in the list of priorities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the End (DAI, FemTrevelyan Inquisitor)

The roaring waves crashed against the cliff face, sending an updraft of spray that littered the risen terrain. The rain attacked the already tarnished ground, making the treacherous path even more slippery below the hooves of the line of horses that trekked across the unstable ground. A whinny of complaint left the horse leading, head turning back in protest as it tried to back-peddle a few feet away from the sliding terrain.

 

There was a sharp crack, and the few stones holding the path in place began to tumble down the hillside. There was a loud whinny from the horse, its hooves scrambling to catch onto higher ground. Its rider clung to the reins, struggling to keep it under control as it reared and leapt to safety.

 

"Easy, boy," the rider extended a hand to pat the horse's neck as they settled on solid ground. "Stay steady."

 

"Inquisitor! Are you alright?"

 

The Inquisitor turned her head to address the voice properly.

 

"I'm fine, Cassandra, but we have to keep moving!" she yelled over the storm. She turned back around in her saddle and tugged at the reins again.

 

There was the sound of clattering hooves against what cobblestone remained, before Cassandra was at her side. The two were travelling with a small party composed of a few Inquisition scouts and soldiers. The original trip was only intended as a short visit into the Ferelden mainland to follow reports of a few lingering Rifts that required the Inquisitor's attention. Now, they'd spent the majority of the trip battling harsh storms and awful weather.

 

The Inquisitor bent over the horse's neck, patting his soaked mane. "Come, Fergus, it's not much further," she reassured, though she was unsure if she was lying or not.

 

A small huff left Fergus, as if he'd understood her words. She wouldn't be surprised, what with how long the two of them had been together.

 

Rising back to her straight posture, the Inquisitor tugged at her hood and turned her face away from the rain for a moment to brush away the water droplets that hung to her skin and hair. She'd forgotten the last time the Storm Coast had been so violent, but she was sure she never wanted to experience such a harsh storm again. As soon as she returned to Skyhold, she would bathe in hot water and _never_ leave the tub.

 

 _That_ would give Josephine to get annoyed about.

 

She and Cassandra continued on their way, but the scouts allowed no mistakes to pass by them; they remained in the Inquisitor's path, checking for unstable ground and ensuring safe passage. She knew they meant well, but she was a little tired of being so coddled, and she outright refused to allow them to give their lives to a dangerous path if it meant her not slipping.

 

"Jim, move aside, will you?!" she called over the rain to the scout who stood, blocking her path.

 

He looked up at her with a serious expression. "I can't, Inquisitor." He said, "It's unsafe."

 

She huffed. Her _dear_ Commander Cullen had sent along Jim to keep an eye on her-- as if _Cassandra_ wasn't enough! Jim was hardly ever far from Cullen's side, so it was strange to have him along, but the young scout had been so excited about receiving a mission for the Inquisitor that he dropped his duties to Cullen immediately. Not that Cullen had been particularly put out about it; the scout seemed to annoy him from time to time.

 

Jim seemed to flinch when he saw the glare she sent him.

 

"I said move aside." she repeated. That got him to scoot.

 

With a crack of the reins, Fergus was slowly moving forwards again. His hooves sunk into the mud, but were pulled back up fast enough that they didn't stick.

 

Her heart stuttered when she felt Fergus shift a whole foot to the right under her--  he shifted even closer to the edge of the cliff. Reacting quickly, she yanked on the reins to pull him sharply to the left, and he clambered through the mud swiftly, but sloppily, in panic. Admittedly, _she_ felt a jolt of panic, but kept it under control as she guided Fergus back atop level ground.

 

Another snort of dismay tore from Fergus' snout as the level ground -- or so she had thought -- shifted under his hooves. She felt as if the whole saddle jolted beneath her; it did indeed when she looked around and noticed she and Fergus had shifted a few feet to lower ground in the slippery death trap. She heard shouts of concern over the rain.

 

Gritting her teeth, she tugged hard at Fergus' reins. The rain had soaked through the once-tough leather of her gloves and covered the reins in a constant, slippery layer. As soon as she tugged, they slipped from her grasp.

 

Fergus' relative calm was spiralling into panic. He bucked up in an attempt to clamber above the ever-sliding cliff side, whinnying loudly as he nearly threw of his rider in his scrambles to reach higher ground. By this point, the Inquisitor was having a hard time keeping a grasp on any of him, and even her feet were slipping free of the stirrups. She clung onto the saddle desperately, and made a mistake; she glanced behind her, her gaze meeting the crashing waves below. She only now realised how close they were to falling completely off the cliff face.

 

"Inquisitor!" that was Cassandra, yelling over the rain and lightning and the crashing waves. "Don't just stand there gaping, you fools!" she barked, "Help her!"

 

A very, unlike-Inquisitor squeal left her as she felt Fergus shift again under her. This time, she heard a crack along with it, and more rocks went tumbling-- she supposed she should be grateful they weren't her. But, as they fell, Fergus almost fell vertically, clinging onto the cliff face by his frontal legs and torso alone. She hit his back with a thump, her heart racing as she clung onto the edge of his saddle for dear life.

 

"Dammit!" she cursed, eyes scouring the cliff side for some kind of purchase to set her feet upon; right now, they were dangling and kicking uselessly below her and hitting Fergus' heavy tail. Unfortunately, the natural wall of rock had been scrubbed smooth by the violent waves, and no such nooks or ledges existed.

 

Cassandra was shouting again. She could only really hear her voice-- _she wondered why._ "Put your backs into it, you stupid sods, or Commander Cullen will have your heads!"

 

She felt Fergus move again, but this time in the direction she wanted. There  was a pause, before there was a heave, and Fergus was hauled up a foot or two by his reins that she no longer held. But no matter how much higher she rose, she felt herself slipping still; her grip on Fergus' saddle was as tight as she could manage, but the rain wasn't helping any, her fatigue was growing on her, and she was beginning to feel the saddle coming loose.

 

 _Maker help me,_ she thought, _all the shit I've been through, and I'm going to die like this?_

"Pull again!" Cassandra was shouting again, followed by a string of curses that lowered in volume as she continued. "Inquisitor, hold on!"

 

"I'm _trying_ , Cassandra!" she barked back sarcastically.

 

Did Cassandra just think she'd casually let her fingers slip? She wouldn't cross it out, certainly-- she wouldn't, and she was talking about herself. On several occasions in the past, she'd been prone to purposely putting herself in life-threatening situations, though that was when the Inquisition had just been formed, and she was thrust into a harsh world of responsibility and a life-shattering task of saving the entirety of Thedas. Cassandra didn't really think she'd throw everything away now, did she? After all she'd done with the Inquisition, and she'd defeated Corypheus, and she was happy with her place now, with Cullen, with the Inquisition? She'd grown, not just in an age sense, since she became Inquisitor. Cassandra had to know that.

 

She cried out in surprise when the saddle dropped abruptly, straps loosening and slipping down Fergus' body. Her heavy breathing slowed a little once the saddle settled and stuck around his back legs. She'd have to speak to Horsemaster Dennet about this damned saddle.

 

She and Fergus moved upwards again as the Inquisition soldiers heaved in the attempt to pull them back up. She squeezed her eyes shut when she felt the saddle jolt downwards even further, but just a little bit. She was never ignoring Jim again.

 

No longer was she hanging in line with Fergus; her whole body except her arms were below his back legs, and she felt her arms growing weak. She cursed, heart racing; this really could mean the end if she didn't get up. And if she didn't get up, and she died, Cullen would bring her back from the dead just to kill her again for being so reckless.

 

Her eyes shot to the lowest point in the cliff she could see, a small ledge barely big enough for one of her hands. It was a metre, two, from her, but she couldn't judge properly from the rainy haze cast over her eyes. She threw caution to the wind and swung her legs, gaining a little momentum. Back and forth she swung, until she took a deep breath and released her grip on Fergus' saddle.

 

She almost overshot it. Her fingers on her left hand caught onto the very edge of the nook, and with the momentum of the jump, she swung right into the cliff face. Winded, she struggled to keep a grip on it.

 

The Anchor crackled to life after such a violent impact, and quickly, she swapped hands. Clinging onto the only lifeline she had with her non-dominant hand was probably a bad idea, but she did it anyway.

 

The muscles in her arm were straining to hold on. It stung like hell, arm burning with the desperate need to hold on. Her feet kicked against the cliff face in search of purchase; something, anything that her feet could stand upon.

 

"Inquisitor!"

 

She threw her head back at the sound of Cassandra's voice. She met her eyes briefly, before looking back to where Fergus had been hanging to see the Inquisition soldiers had successfully pulled him up, to her relief. Then, she turned her attention back to her own survival.

 

"Grab my hand!" Cassandra was flat on her stomach at the edge of the cliff, face screwed up into a determined scowl as she extended her hand as far as she could.

 

Heaving a deep breath, the Inquisitor swung her arm and attempted to reach her. Their fingertips just brushed, and a short cry left her when she swung around and hit her back against the cliff side.

 

The wind angrily lashed out at her, tugging at her hair and coat. She blinked away the rain as she struggled to swing herself back around so the rain hit her back instead. Her heart was hammering, her breath coming in short pants. She'd forgotten the last time she'd struggled so much.

 

Cassandra was shouting at her again. "Quickly, Keirra!" Her fingertips flexed and stretched in an attempt to reach her.

 

Keirra swallowed a lump in her throat, before throwing her arm around again. A shaky, triumphant laugh left her when her palm came into full contact with Cassandra's, and the warrior began to heave her up. She released the grip her other hand had on the small ledge, attempting to find another higher up to use as further leverage.

 

Just at the wrong time did the Anchor decide to act up.

 

A cry tore from Keirra as a bright green light crackled from her hand, an ear-splitting crack following that was louder than even the thunder. In surprise, Cassandra's grip on her hand loosened, and the Inquisitor let out a second cry as she skidded back down the cliff face, scrambling to catch back onto the ledge.

 

"Keirra!"

 

 _Dammit!_ She thought, unable to shout aloud for the heavy breaths leaving her, _Dammit, dammit, dammit! Damn this stupid mark!_

 

By the time she'd finally attached her hand to a ledge, she felt the spray of the crashing waves against her back. In panic, she gripped the short ledge with both hands, thankful it was big enough to lean her arms on too. She looked up, but struggled to spot Cassandra or any Inquisition soldier through the rain. She blinked quickly, trying to clear her eyes of rain, but it was in vain, and soon she turned her head back down to avoid it.

 

"Dammit, Keirra, think!" She breathed, surprised she was even able to hear her voice over the rain and the waves. Maybe it was just her mind being louder than usual because of her panic.

 

Almost in a eureka moment, she scrambled around to search for her chain. She knew she had it somewhere; she brought it everywhere! She couldn't fight at her best without it! As she struggled to find it in the pouches at her belt, she shrieked as she felt her hand slip a little. She was rushing; she needed to calm and slow down. She was being clumsy.

 

Swapping hands again, she almost tossed everything from her pouches and bags into the sea below as she scrambled to find her chain. She pulled out everything but what she wanted; lockpicks, poisons, animal bait, pebbles, jars of bees... Everything but what she _needed!_

 

Pain shot through her legs as she felt the heavy waves crash up against the cliff side, pressing her lower body against the rough stone. She used the momentary support to take a better grip of the ledge, praying to the Maker that it held in place until... Until what? What was she going to do? She couldn't find her chain, she couldn't expect Cassandra to suddenly be able to perform a miracle. Unless the Anchor was feeling particularly _generous_ , she wasn't getting out of here without leaving injured-- or dying. It wasn't like she even wanted to take a visit to the Fade again even if the Anchor was willing.

 

She gasped sharply as the waves retreated back to the sea, falling in a heavy crash; her body had very nearly been taken with it. Without any support, her body nearly collapsed straight into the sea. She barely managed to keep a hold on the ledge, fingers barely keeping a grip on it.

 

 _Oh, Maker, please no,_ she screamed internally as she heard cracking-- the sound of stone cracking.

 

She wasn't that heavy! She had maybe eaten one too many _tiny cakes_ at Josephine's little party the other week, but she didn't miraculously gain a hundred pounds in the space of a few days of eating rations.

 

Always, she'd told herself she'd die with dignity. That was long gone from her mind as the scream left her when the stone finally cracked.

 

Falling in water had always been a cushioned landing, she thought. Always there to catch her a little gentler than hardwood. Now, however, she wasn't sure if she'd landed in water, or on the hardest Dwarven stone.

 

The wind was knocked out of her as her back came into contact with the surface. It felt like one of the Iron Bull's direct smacks to the back, except this lacked all the friendlessness and he used as much force as he would with a fellow Qunari than with a small human woman. She made the mistake of gasping for air; she inhaled nothing but salt water, and it burned her throat.

 

Fighting the waves was stupid and pointless, but it didn't stop her. She flailed her arms as she struggled to remember what she knew of swimming, legs kicking weakly as she desperately swam for the surface. She broke through it with a few loud gasps, struggling to inhale as much sweet air as she could, before she was dragged back under again.

 

This limbo continued for a while. The sea was determined and vicious, tossing her back and forth like a ragdoll. As soon as she thought she was gaining... Something, anything -- even the slightest bit of air -- it dragged her back down and forced her to begin fighting again. She'd rarely faced an enemy that she couldn't face with a blade.

 

She'd never met the raging sea before.

 

The sea was hungry; it ate and devoured every last piece of stamina she had, using it against her and turning her determination to fatigue that weakened every muscle and limb. She fought in vain, yet the thought of what she fought for remained in her mind, foremost and important. The Inquisition, her friends, hell, even her family who didn't seem to care whether she lived or died at this point. But the one image that wouldn't leave was _Cullen_. He was staring at her from the depths of the dark sea, saying nothing, but his eyes said _everything_. Losing her would break him. She couldn't die, not for her sake, but for _his_.

 

No matter how much her mind begged her body to have the will, the strength to carry on fighting, her body screamed at her to stop. It felt like her arms and legs were still moving to push her upwards, but she saw them, traitorous limbs, hanging limply in the water. Maybe it was her mind giving her false hope. It probably was.

 

What would happen now, she wondered. Would she meet her Maker like she'd always been told? Would Andraste reach her hand out for real, this time? Was there even anyone waiting on the other side? _Was_ there another side?

 

Strangely enough, she felt at peace. She had always thought dying was painful, and every part of your being screamed at you to fight the alluring embrace of darkness. But the only part that hurt was her lungs, and the burning there seemed to lessen as she sunk lower. Maybe it was the fact that Cullen was beside her that calmed her. He no longer seemed sad or upset with her; in fact, he was smiling. She felt his arms around her, and she couldn't care less about refusing to accept the embrace of darkness if it was him.

 

She couldn't even see the surface anymore. She could only see darkness-- either that was the insides of her own eyelids, or it was the depths of the sea so far down that nothing but the void was visible.

 

Her limbs felt weak. They weren't uncomfortably weak; she felt like she'd just woken up after a long and heavy sleep that she'd been waiting for, for the longest time, with Cullen beside her. And there he was, arms encircling her and holding her close. He didn't feel warm, like he always did, and there was no soft morning light to dance off his blonde curls or the bed sheets that clung to his pale skin.

 

In fact, she felt cold. She wasn't sure if it was uncomfortable or not, but she knew she didn't have much time to contemplate much anymore. It was only a little longer until... Well. The end, she supposed.

 

She spent the last few moments enjoying being wrapped up in her lover's embrace, all thoughts of the Inquisition wiped from her mind. She was content here, and if this is what death felt like, she didn't mind it all that much. She'd only experienced death once before, and it was never this wonderful.

 

She could no longer see Cullen, but she could feel him. Her eyes must have closed of their own accord, she presumed. She was comfortable enough in his arms that she felt sleep coming on.

 

"Relax, my love," she heard his voice crystal clear in her ear. It sounded so warm and welcome right now, in this cold abyss. "You can sleep soon, I promise."

 

 _But I want to sleep now,_ she wanted to say, but couldn't; her lips wouldn't move.

 

"There's something I want you to do before you do rest, love," he continued. Her words, no matter how hard she had tried, obviously hadn't reached him. Instead, she listened to his request with open ears. "Will you do it for me?"

 

 _Of course, but what?_ she asked, but got no response. She supposed he couldn't hear her.

 

"I want you to wake up."

 

And so she did.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are. Another fanfic. It's my first time posting anything for Dragon Age, so be gentle, okay? Don't break me into tiny pieces, please. Kudos and comments are appreciated to let me know what you think!


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